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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162830">Kitchen Witchin'</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully'>leiascully</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Leverage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Eliot Spencer's Cooking, M/M, OT3Tropetober (Leverage)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:20:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitchen witch Eliot's technomancer boyfriend Hardison keeps trying to bring new gadgets into Eliot's traditional kitchen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kitchen Witchin'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Timeline: AU<br/>A/N:  Written for OT3Troptober.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eliot stared at the gleaming new machine in his kitchen.  </p><p>"What," he said slowly, "is that."</p><p>Hardison slouched against the kitchen island, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands.  "What's what, handsome?"</p><p>Eliot jerked his head at the thing on the counter.  "That."</p><p>"Oh, that?" Hardison said, elaborately casual.  "That's a top of the line Necromincer 5000.  Not only does it mince, but it chops.  It shreds.  It juliennes.  It chiffonades.  It purees.  I don't know what half of that means, but it's the hottest new addition to any herbalist's arsenal."</p><p>"What are you, writing ads for it?" Eliot grumbled.  "What's it doing in my kitchen?"</p><p>"I got you a lil' gift," Hardison said.  "To show my appreciation for everything you've been giving me, if you know what I mean."  He waggled his eyebrows.</p><p>"This is technology," Eliot said, ignoring Hardison's suggestive expressions.  "I don't use technology in my magic, man."</p><p>"Sure you do," Hardison said.  "Mortars and pestles don't grow on trees.  Neither does that big fancy gas stove.  It's all technology."  He set down the coffee cup just so he could make dramatic air quotes around the word "technology".  If he hadn't been shirtless with those low-slung sweatpants that threatened to slide right off his hips, Eliot probably would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he was a little distracted.  Hardison's sweatpants won a lot of their arguments, if he was honest, especially since Hardison had been spending more and more weekends at Eliot's place.  </p><p>"Eliot.  Calling Eliot.  Earth to Eliot."  Hardison poked at him.  Eliot startled out of his reverie about Hardison's abs and all the rest of Hardison and the amount of time they'd been spending together in Eliot's big sage-scented bed.</p><p>"Will you put a damn shirt on so we can finish this argument?" Eliot said.</p><p>Hardison looked around.  He picked up one of Eliot's flannels from the back of one of the high chairs tucked under the island and shrugged it on without bothering to button it.  It didn't help hide his abs at all, and it was way too snug across the shoulders, but it was something.  Eliot regained enough brain function to refocus on why Hardison was wrong.  </p><p>"What I use isn't technology," Eliot said.  "It's human powered.  Well, the gas stove is fire-powered, I guess, but it doesn't need electricity.  I can light it with a match if I have to."</p><p>"Oh, sure," Hardison said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.  "Because they just went out and harvested all the pipes for it from the gas-stove fields.  Dug up the burner covers, knocked the dirt off, and shipped them straight to you.  It's technology, Eliot.  We made it to work for us."</p><p>"It's not new technology," Eliot insisted.  "I don't just press a button and wham bam chiffonade."  He glared at the Necromincer.  "I also don't believe that damn gadget can chiffonade."</p><p>Hardison tipped his head.  "Fine.  Try to do something nice to make your life easier, give you a little more free time to spend with me, but I see how it is."  He shifted and picked up his coffee cup again, taking a step toward the living room.  Eliot caught him around the waist and Hardison smiled down at him, more than a little smug.</p><p>"Thank you," Eliot said,settling his hips comfortably against Hardison's.  "I'm never gonna use it."</p><p>"Maybe not for magic," Hardison said, "but when it comes to dinner, that might be a different story."</p><p>Eliot looked back at the big machine as Hardison wrapped one arm around Eliot's shoulders, tugging gently at Eliot's hair.  "It might be useful for dinner."  </p><p>"Hmm, changing your tune," Hardison said, smiling.  </p><p>"Yeah, well," Eliot said.  "Sometimes you chop all day, you don't want to chop all night."</p><p>"I do love to watch you though," Hardison said.  "My man and his big old knives.  All those muscles in your back, mmm."</p><p>"I got plenty of chopping to do today," Eliot said.  "Or I will after I go out and forage what I need."</p><p>"You want help?" Hardison asked.</p><p>"Hell no," Eliot said.  "Not after you mixed up foxgloves and violets."</p><p>"They were purple," Hardison protested.  "You said they were purple.  I got the purple ones."</p><p>Eliot shook his head.  "I'm not taking any chances.  You'd probably pick up the wrong mushroom or something and then I'm minus one boyfriend."</p><p>"Oh, boyfriend, huh?" Hardison teased.</p><p>"Yeah, well," Eliot said, pretending to scowl, "if you're gonna start trying to clutter up my beautiful kitchen with your weird appliances, I think it's kind of official."  </p><p>"You'd bring me back," Hardison said with certainty.  "Even if you had to use the Necromincer."</p><p>"I like your faith in me," Eliot said, "but I'd also just rather avoid any kind of near-death experience."  He leaned forward very deliberately and ran his hands over Hardison's abs.  "I've got better things to do with my time than spend it saving your ass, you know?"</p><p>"I think I get it," Hardison said.  He leaned down to give Eliot a lingering kiss.  "I'm gonna go get my magic done for the day so you don't have to see me shaping any nasty electricity or non-ancient technology into spells to save lives and make people's days run smoother.  Wouldn't want you to get upset by any kind of magic that didn't start out growing in the earth."</p><p>"Great," Eliot told him.  "I'm gonna go out and participate in centuries of tradition by harvesting the blessings and, yes, some of the curses of nature and transforming them into medicine and enchantments."</p><p>"Seems to me like you've got plenty of home-grown enchantments working," Hardison said, setting down his coffee again so he could rub Eliot's back.  "If you know what I mean."</p><p>"I think I'm picking up what you're putting down," Eliot said.  "Guess the sooner we both get done, the sooner we can test that theory."</p><p>"Hey," Hardison said as Eliot moved away.  "Make sure you come back just a little sweaty, okay?"</p><p>"Just for you, I'll make sure to get a little sweaty," Eliot promised.  He got his picking bag off its hook on the wall and slung it over his shoulder.  Hardison patted his ass as Eliot walked past him again on the way to the fridge.  He opened the door, blocking Hardison's view with his body, and rummaged around in the vegetable drawer under the celery, coming up with a packet wrapped in waxed cloth.</p><p>"Is that the sandwich?" Hardison asked.  "Damn, I'll be honest with you, E.  I was gonna eat that sandwich."</p><p>"That's why I made two."  Eliot smiled.  "Yours is the one on top of the eggs."  He packed it carefully in his bag and filled his water bottle at the sink, dropping in a few mint leaves from the plant on the windowsill.  He kissed Hardison as he left and hummed a little tune to himself.  The air was fresh and crisp, and he lived in a world full of magic.  When he came home, Hardison would be curled up in an armchair, and in a way, that was the best magic of all.  He wasn't going to tell Hardison that, though.  There were only so many smug grins a man could bear.  Still and all, it was a nice life.</p>
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